The Fractured Genius
by Crazybearfaria
Summary: Harry Potter may be brilliant. Hell, he may be the brightest human to walk the face of the Earth. But even he has limits to what his brilliant mind can cope with. His family was torn apart and he refuses to truly open up to anyone. But as Harry grows and overcomes the challenges set before him, he rediscovers the wonders of true friendship... especially with a certain French Veela
1. Chapter 1

_**Why hello there people. As you all probably know, my continuation of Knowledge is Power, 'The Cost Of Brilliance', was taken down by the wonderful Administration of thanks to one individual's childishness. **_

_**But fear not. **_

_**I have a story for you ladies and gentlemen that follows a **__**similar**__** plot to KIP and CoB at times but contains NO text from the original. **_

_**Harry will still be mostly the loveable arsehole that we all came to love in KIP and CoB. But he will be different as well. **_

_**This Harry is not as outright arsehole-ish as his is in the stories on which this is based. He is still a genius and has a dry/morbid/dark sense of humour and an extremely pessimistic outlook on life…but he's learnt that he can't just be an arsehole and expect to get away with it…..a point that will be explained this chapter **_

_**As I am making this my own work based around the brilliant work of the author Fettucini (THE Original author of Knowledge is Power) there will obviously be large differences between not only our writing style but the plot, characters etc. **_

_**Any ways, I have kept you good people in limbo long enough for a "Story that is not a continuation but is in-fact a new story based off tiny bits of an old story." So...**_

_**Enjoy. **_

* * *

**Chapter 1: The Fractured Genius **

* * *

**(Insert Music: Bleach OST: Nothing can be explained.) **

_Pain. _

_Why is it always the first thing you have to feel when you wake up, you may ask?_

_Sure it has it's uses and what not. You can assess any damage you may have suffered in the blink of an eye and therefore react accordingly with your opening moves. If you know you're in a hostile environment it at least informs you of roughly what limitations you can expect of your body….and therefore how hard you can push it before you ultimately fall. _

_Yes there are many advantages to pain as one individual would easily tell you. But there is one thing that pain does that very few other things ever can. _

_It can remind you that your alive. _

_And that was the role it was playing for the young man lying on the floor of a vast, white expanse. His body was well built and he probably stood at around six feet tall when stood up straight. Atop his head sat a messy mop of raven-black hair that seemed to merely absorb any light that came into contact with it. His face was well defined and extremely handsome, one that could simply make women faint with a small smile. _

_And as this raven haired individual slowly began to wake up, he could only feel one thing. _

_Pain. _

'_Merlin's bollocks…..what the hell happened?' The young man thought to himself as he struggled against the protests of his body to assess the damage dealt to it._

'_Okay, feels like I have both legs and arms, ten toes, eight fingers and two thumbs. Well at least I'm in one piece I suppose….but given the spells I was just hit with, I kinnda feel lucky to even be ali…' _

_It was at that moment the boy's eyes finally registered where the hell he was. A look of confusion adorned his features as he looked at the vast white expanse he was in. He looked to his left, then his right, before repeating the motions several times before voicing the issue that was on his mind. _

"_WHERE THE FUCK AM I?" _

"_Depends on where you want it to be, Harry." _

_The now identified Harry almost snapped his neck due to the speed at which his head turned to face the hooded figure across from him. _

_Said figure let out a small chuckle as the young man in-front of him let out a small yelp of pain the almost certain whiplash he gave himself from turning to face the man wearing the crimson robes opposite him._

"_I'd be careful if I where you. You took one hell of a beating before you got here." The hooded figure told Harry with a calm and relaxing voice that seemed to put Harry on edge._

"_And where the hell is 'here' exactly my hooded acquaintance." Harry asked in a fairly neutral tone. But the hooded figure could easily detect the hidden anger hidden in Harry's voice. _

"_Still don't like not having all the facts, eh Harry?"_

"_I'm warning you now…" Harry growled, but was cut off before he could continue to speak. _

"_Relax, relax. You are in no danger here." _

_Harry just quirked an eyebrow at the individual in-front of him that indicated he wanted more elaboration. Chuckling ever so slightly, the hooded figure continued. _

"_This place goes by many names created by the others that were once here….but the most fitting is perhaps that of Limbo I suppose. It's a place that exists between life and death….a middle ground if you will. This is the place where those who are nearly dead but will soon return to the land of the living stay." _

"_So I'm having a near death experience?" Harry asked blandly. _

"_Yes and no. Whilst you are __**near **__death, this is not a figment of your imagination, conjured by your mind so it doesn't have to face the fact of its ending. _

_No, this place is where the spiritually damaged or those too god damned stubborn to die wake and try to fix things or to simply wait out their time here." The hooded figure stood, looking over the young man in-front of him as he processed the information given to him at a speed the hooded figure only dreamt of achieving. _

"_So why am I here then?" Harry asked cautiously. _

_The hooded figure chuckled ever so lightly. 'God, he hasn't changed one bit since we last met.' The hooded figure thought wistfully to himself, before deciding to answer the impatient looking man in front of him. _

"_You're a special case. Your soul is damaged, ravaged by guilt it should not have to bear nor deal with alone. You refuse to allow others to love you for fear of failing them like you think you failed __**her **__once before. You still carry guilt over those you've killed and for those you feel that you feel that you've failed aside from her. It's torn your soul apart and put it on so much strain that I am surprised that your even standing and thinking straight right now to be honest with you. _

_That and you're a stubborn bastard." Harry looked at the hooded figure with a raised eyebrow. _

"_You have me at a disadvantage. You know several things about me that I would rather keep to myself and yet I know not your name."_

_The hooded figure smirked ever so slightly. _

'_Yup….definitely hasn't changed.' _

"_All you need to know is that I am from your past."_

"_You'll have to be a lot more specific than that. I've killed plenty of people and seen several die in my time." Harry replied bitterly. Even though he tried to hide it behind a thin veneer of indifference and calm, the situation and what he had done was clearly eating away at Harry if you looked close enough. _

"_Well why don't you tell me your story?"_

"_You already seem to know…."_

"_How often does one get to hear events straight from the source?" _

_Harry looked out over the endless white stream in-front of him and let out an unnoticeable sigh. _

"_Fine….but you may want to get comfortable…"_

"_Because this is a long one."_

**_(END OST)_**

* * *

_**(Seven years ago, 2002, East London.)**_

Perpetual drizzle. A sight common to those who had lived in the United Kingdom, even at the end of June. One individual, however, stood out ever so slightly from those watching from the touchlines of an Under 11's football match. The man in question was undoubtedly handsome, with strong features. Unfortunately, the man in question also happened to have a sickly look to his skin and appeared consistently drained of energy.

This man was Remus Lupin.

Now, before you get any ideas, it's important you know that Lupin did NOT make a habit of standing on the side-lines of young children's football matches for any "peculiar" reasons that brought the police running.

No, the reason Remus was braving the cold, damp drizzle of this Saturday morning was currently ON the pitch.

Said child was dressed in a football kit that appeared to have once upon a time been of a blue or navy colouring, but it was almost impossible to tell given the huge amount of mud that was currently pasted on his kit. His socks were still in their original positions, just below the knee joint and the shirt was (somehow) still tucked in.

The boy was Harry.

Harry Potter.

Now, Remus considered himself to be an intelligent man who could outperform the rest of his peers with little effort. But even HE felt stupid when he talked to Harry. The boy was terrifyingly intelligent, with an astute mind and the ability to focus on a task until he had seen it through.

Remus had adopted the boy not long after his third birthday when his father had been killed and his mother had fallen into a coma following an attack on their country home. Any talk about the events had been non-verbally agreed as a taboo for the pair of them to talk about

And it was one neither was ever going to break.

Harry himself, despite the horrific nature of the attack on his parents, had become remarkably well adjusted. Sure, he still drifted off into deep thought from time to time and seemed to become even _more _cagey than he already was.

And yet despite all of this, the boy managed to maintain a sharp wit and dark sense of humour that frequently put Remus in his place and gave him food for thought.

Remus had briefly considered therapy for the boy before the most amazing thing happened; Harry started to open up to him when the boy expressed a willingness….no, a primal_ need _to learn and acquire knowledge. Harry would often be found in the library with several tomes surrounding him, even in the middle of the night. Remus never really talked to him about it…but eventually Remus asked him about it.

And once that had happened. Well things just took off from there. Remus quickly realised that the boy took the meaning of the phrase "Genius" to a whole new level. His insatiable desire to learn and his intellect made the boy possibly one of the greatest minds of his generation….a mind that would have been wasted in the state system…..so Remus elected to home school him.

There was also a second reason.

The second reason was more bizarre than fascinating though; the bulk of what Remus would be teaching Harry just wouldn't be available to the boy if he enlisted in any of the public or private schools London provided – heck, any other school in the world for that matter.

The reason was that these two individuals belonged to a world far more wonderful and amazing than the regular world.

Harry and Remus belonged to the world of magic where people could utilize and control a spiritual force from within them to perform feats that many individuals would consider impossible, whilst mythical and wondrous creatures interacted with their world every day.

Hardly something that a normal school could really cater for.

After all, not only was it against several laws in-place by the ICW (The International Confederation of Wizards, which was basically the governing body of international Wizarding affairs) prohibited "muggle" knowledge of their world. But also, how would Remus explain any cases of accidental magic that Harry may suffer from before he could be tutored in the Wizarding world. So he decided to home school him.

How did this affect Harry's schooling though? Well, usually it wouldn't, but Harry was a special case.

With the mind of a genius and an understandable desire and thirst to learn about magic and all that it entails, Remus felt it was his duty to oblige his charge and teach him all that he wanted to learn. Providing Harry promised to keep up with his muggle studies, Remus bent over backwards to accommodate the boys seemingly endless questions about magic and the world that they lived in. Hidden from the rest of the world in plain sight sometimes.

This is what brought them to the here and now. At the age of eight, Harry had taken an interest in football and had asked to join the local team so he could play. Now, whilst Remus his-self wasn't the most sporting of people, he DID acknowledge the benefits of playing sport and keep fit, and therefore signed the young boy up for Highbury United.

Now, Remus was normally of the disposition that skill and ability were earned through hours and hours of hard practice and training drills. Like Harry's father, James and his Quidditch. Sure, he had the natural physical gifts to play chaser as well as he did, but he had worked his arse off almost EVERY day in order to get as good as he was.

But Remus' disposition was shattered the first time he saw Harry step onto the pitch. He was a natural at the sport to a level that made Remus almost jealous. His passing, shooting and natural agility combined with his genius level intellect made certain that the boy was always the best player on the pitch.

But even that may not have been enough here.

The sixty minutes of the match were almost up, and unless something changed, it looked like the game would go into extra time

Normally, that wouldn't be an issue.

If they weren't down to ten men thanks to a reckless tackle made by the teams right midfielder in the first half. They were all almost running on empty.

Even Harry. Brilliant as he was, had his physical limits given the fact that he was a ten year old child.

Remus breath hitched in his throat as Harry received the ball from their goalkeeper in the midfield. Harry would make something happen, of that Remus had no doubt. The parents on the side-line had taken to calling him "St Potter" for his ability to pull gob-smacking plays out of thin air.

That and both his left and right foot had one hell of a habit of finding the back of the net with the ball.

He watched as the boy seemed to take a calming breath before flicking the ball around and behind the back of an opposing defender with such ease it was almost laughable. From there Harry turned on the afterburners, running with the ball seemingly glued to his feet. Another two defenders attempted to catch Harry but he simply lifted the ball over them and to the centre forward several metres away.

Said young boy immediately fixed his eyes back onto Harry and his run, ignoring all of the opposition as several defenders closed in around him.

Seconds before the defender behind him got a foot to the ball, the striker simply lifted the ball in-behind the defence and right into Harry's path.

Not once did Harry's eyes leave the ball. Even as the goalkeeper came racing forwards with every intent of taking the ball from the young man's feet. Harry just waited to the last second and the keeper was sliding towards his feet and the ball before chipping the ball over the keeper in the net with the outside of his left foot.

Remus stood there in absolute silence with the rest of the parents whilst every player had their eyes glued on Harry.

The first shrill blast of the referee's whistle brought everyone back down to Earth. The second blast that signalled the end of the match brought absolute pandemonium to the pitch.

Ten other children surrounded Harry and were screaming their lungs out. Said boy seemed reluctant to join in the celebrations initial, but after several seconds the boy seemed to relax a little and began to join in the celebrations, albeit at a much more sedated level than his teammates.

Remus let out a sigh of relief.

These matches were seriously bad for Remus' mental and physical health state.

* * *

Harry Potter sat on his bed with a gentle piece of classical music playing in background as he worked through another mathematical question in the back of a muggle newspaper. His body was physically taxed but his mind was still racing at a million miles an hour. No matter how hard he tried, he never seemed capable of "switching off" like other people.

Hence the pile of newspapers and other complex maths questions piled up next to him.

He had to be doing something so his mind didn't wander too far into the past lest he drift into the thoughts of _that _night….

The one that robbed him of his family.

His _life. _

That's wasn't to say that he didn't love Remus almost like a father figure. Because he did. The man had practically raised him for the past seven years, pulled him out of the critical depression he had forced himself into. No matter how difficult, quiet, obnoxious or terrified he was, Remus was always there for him.

He didn't offer love and support like a father would in some ways, mostly because he didn't know how to deal with such situations himself. Physical affection normally extended to a comforting arm around the shoulder or just _being _there. That was enough. Because for all his effort and his amazing treatment of Harry, Remus would never be able to replace James….Harry's father.

**(Insert music: Naruto OST: Samidare.) **

The few memories Harry had of his father prior to the events of _that _night were some of the greatest he had. Each one was so simple yet heart-warming and wrenching at the same time.

Heart-warming because they reminded Harry that his father loved him more than he would probably ever know. They provided Harry with a sense of security the likes of which he hadn't felt since he was in his mother's arms.

But they broke his heart at the same time as they reminded Harry of what he had lost…..of the price his family had paid.

The loss of security.

The loss of love.

The loss of his true family.

However….even those thoughts were inconsequential when compared to those of his mother.

Lily Potter Nee Evans was a beautiful women with what many men considered a "perfect frame" and long, luscious red hair that reached her mid back. Her eyes were a vibrant green that seemed to hum with intelligence and power whilst her luscious lips were always set in a gentle smile.

A smile that Harry would kill to see again.

She was ALWAY there for him no matter what. Even when she had had a terrible day at work she always made time for him. If she had extra work to be getting on with but Harry wanted to just hug her, she would make the time. Even on his worst days when he felt sad or alone, his mother would always just say the right things and make him forget whatever was bugging him.

But no matter how hard he tried, the memories always lead back to _that _night.

The one that left his mother in a coma.

That left her unmoving.

Unfeeling.

Unhearing.

Uncaring.

It broke his heart to think of his mother like that. Lily Potter was always a bundle of energy that seemed to brighten anyone's mood with just her presence, let alone what words of wisdom she may impart on an individual. She shouldn't have been confined to a damned bed in St. Mungos' magical hospital in the permanent care unit, kept alive by only nutrition potions and cleaning charms god damn it!

Harry slowly began to crush the pencil that was in his right hand as he thought about his mother. The curse that she was hit with was meant for him god damn it! It was MEANT for him. HE was supposed to be the one confined to the bed for the rest of his life.

But Lily Potter, with her Gryffindor attitude and endless love for her child had taken that curse and effectively ruined her own life.

Now she lay there. As unfeeling, unaware and motionless as a corpse.

People said he should be thankful that his mother was alive! Hah!

'WHAT life? What do they know?' Harry thought to himself bitterly. And it was true. Lily Potter could neither be called alive or dead, and therefore could not be said to have a life. But even if it could be called a life, who would want to live like that? Unable to do anything but waste away. Unable to express yourself or even move. Unable to love your family or even _look _at your son.

By that point….

Life is merely a disease clinging onto you.

Harry kept increasing his pressure on the pencil until it finally snapped, the sound breaking him out of his self-loathing and misery.

Shaking his head slightly, Harry leapt out of his bed and pressed the off button on his CD player.

When he got like this there was only one place he could truly clear his head…..and all the while thinking of only one thing.

"_I'll find a way to cure her…..so help me god.'_

_(**End OST) **_

* * *

Remus was carrying a pair of coke-a-cola cans as he ascended the stairs with several things on his mind….but each one related back to one thing.

Harry.

The most prominent thought about his young charge was about the upcoming school year. This end of June, Harry would be receiving his Hogwarts Acceptance letter and would be off to one of the premier Wizarding schools on the face of the planet. Not that Remus was actually _worried _about Harry at the school…..more so the lack of company he would soon have.

Harry was brilliant company no matter your age. He was capable of communicating at any level, from high-flying intellectual debates with people several decades his seniors to having childish discussions with his peers. That combined with his razor-sharp wit and his somewhat dark and morbid sense of humour made Harry one of the best possible people to share your company with.

Upon reaching the top of the stairs, Remus found himself stopping at the silence that reigned over the small floor.

"Harry?" He shouted.

After several more repetitions, Remus gave a small sigh and headed towards the heavy oak door at the end of the landing. Taking a calming breath, Remus pushed the door open and moved within into the envelope of the silencing charm that had been placed on the room long ago.

The moment he entered the room, Remus' ears and mind were ensnared by a beautiful melody that was both haunting and wonderful at the same time. Each note combined together to produce a piece of music that sent pangs of sorrow through Remus' entire body even when he tried to let his mind wander to happy thoughts.

He knew the piece well. It was a violin piece that was written by the composer in a mere hour one bone freezing November night.

It was a piece written by Harry.

Each note seemed to drag on forever in your mind, adding only futher to the haunting effect as Harry ran the bow over the string of his violin, a Stradivarius that was simply gathering dust in the Potter family vault.

The wood was a dark brown that had been tended for lovingly for the past several years. Each piece had been hand-crafted several centuries ago and fitted together by the man himself. The damned thing was worth an absolute fortune to the right people and when in the _hands _of the right person.

Well this was the effect.

A sound unrivalled by anything you could ever imagine. The violin Harry held possessed a sheer quality to its sound you could never truly appreciate until you'd heard it. Especially when in the hands of one so skilled with the instrument.

Eventually, the notes began to fade, their enchanting quality echoing away with them until finally all noise ceased in the room. Both Remus and Harry were silent, aware of the others presence yet unsure of what to say.

Eventually it was Remus who spoke up.

"You know, that song of yours truly is beautiful." Remus said with a soft smile as Harry turned to face him.

Harry smiled and nodded his head in thanks as he took the can of Coke from Remus.

"I only intended to create a short symphony to help take my mind off of things. I never meant for it to even be playable. It was simply meant as a distraction." Harry replied in his soft, almost dulcet voice.

"Sometimes the most beautiful works of art are created in the spur of the moment." Remus replied calmly as he looked out over the bland room. The only sign of any use being the music stand and table on which countless symphonies rested and the case of Harry's violin resided.

"Aye, that they are." Harry muttered as he took another sip of his drink.

The two sat there for several minutes, taking pleasure simply out of each-other's company and the cold beverages they were enjoying.

Eventually, Remus broke the silence again.

"So….Tomorrow…"

"Yeah, big day."

"Nervous?"

"No. It's not like it's going to be particularly dangerous or anything so why should it?" Harry asked dryly, earning a soft chuckle from Remus.

"No, and even if something cropped up…."

"I'd kick it's arse and deal with it myself?"

"Yeah."

"To be honest, I'd rather stay at home and continue my home schooling. But when faced with the choice of hanging out with your for seven more years,raising some questions of your 'choices'. OR having to deal with morons for seven years…..well let's just say I'd rather not have a call from muggle social services. Especially if they bring the doll." Harry said in a dry voice, earning a soft chuckle from Remus.

"You have one twisted sense of humour, ya' know that, right?"

"No, it's not dark. It's just observant." Harry replied dully. He looked to Remus who seemed to be struggling to speak for several seconds but eventually found his voice.

"Harry…..I know it's not my place to say anything but perhaps you should try and make…."

"If people are worth making friends with then I will Remus. You of all people should understand the importance of good friends, after all."

Remus shook his head slightly as he headed for the door. Turning back to face Harry, he cocked his head to one side. Harry looked to the violin he had placed in the case of the table before shaking his head.

"I'm going to play a few more pieces….it…..it might help me sleep better."

Nodding his head, Remus turned around and closed the door, all of his thoughts centred around the young man he had just left behind.

'That god forsaken guilt is still eating at him….I hope that he finds some friends to help cope with it all.'

Now, whilst it was true that Harry was an extremely well liked boy at the football club and around the neighbourhood, Harry didn't really have any friends. Sure he laughed and acted normal like the rest of the children. His dry wit and wonderful intelligence was endearing to those older than him and he was able of dealing with anyone, young or old.

And therein lay the problem.

Harry Potter was not a people person.

He was a good _manipulator _of people.

Sure his words sounded honest and heartfelt as he talked to the kids at the football club or the older members of the neighbourhood when they stopped him in the street. But Remus knew that the boy was simply _acting _the way people expected him to. Hell, at home he was about as emotionally expressive as a rock at times.

And yet despite it all, Remus could still see the pain and anguish that lay beneath the surface of Harry's false pretence of a sociable and outgoing young man or the bitter and dry witted.

In many ways he reminded Remus of that guy from that TV show "House", played by Hugh Laurie. Harry was brilliant, there was no denying that at all. The boy was a genius and Remus was certain that he would become regarded as one of the brightest minds of the 21st century in whatever world he chose to involve himself in.

But he was also bitter. Oh, so, so bitter about an event that was beyond his control. He carried an immense amount of guilt on his young shoulders and it killed Remus to be unable to do _anything _to help his surrogate son.

But alas, what could he do?

Harry refused to talk about the issues with anyone, saying that "_**What's done is done.**_" And would then proceed to sit in silence, brooding for the rest of the day. Any suggestions at seeing a professional in _either _the mundane or magical world was shot down with a vicious remark or cold indifference about the subject. The whole ordeal affected Harry more than he would ever admit to anyone…..yet it was clear to any onlooker how much suffering he was in.

Sighing in resignation, Remus began his journey down the steps of the house that they shared.

Once he reached the last few steps to ground floor, Remus barely registered a small "pop" next to him. He turned around to be greeted by a creature roughly 2 ½ to 3 feet tall. It had somewhat pink/grey coloured skin with two large, dinner-plate like eyes and long floppy ears.

A house elf.

"Can Mika be getting yous something sir?" The now identified Mika squeaked, her voice fitting her diminutive frame perfectly.

Remus rubbed his temples gently as he made his way down the last step before speaking up.

"Get me a glass of whisky, the good stuff Mika. And mix in the strongest dreamless-sleep potion we have with Harry' hot chocolate when he asks for it…."

"I have a feeling he's going to need it tonight."

* * *

Harry stared at the letter that was in-front of him, but his mind was a million miles away.

He knew that Remus had asked Mika to mix in a dreamless sleep potion with his hot chocolate yesterday. Now he wasn't complaining, in-fact, it was nice to know that he stilled cared about his mental health no matter how many times Harry rudely rebuffed him. But those were his issues to deal with, not his or anyone else's.

Now, you may be wondering how Harry noticed that there was a dreamless sleep potion in his drink?

Odd taste of spearmint aside, the main giveaway was the fragmented nature of his dreams last night.

No matter how strong the potion was, fragments of the same night would always creep through if he was due to remember the evening. The evening that robbed him of everything. He would always wake up feeling drained and angry, and there was nothing that the potions could do about it.

He should have probably told Remus about it all, but to be honest, the fragments helped remind him of the sacrifices that kept him alive. And the use of the dreamless sleep potion seemed to help ease Lupin's worries about him, so for the sake of the tired old wolf he kept the knowledge to himself.

Shaking his head slightly, Harry returned his attention to the letter in-front of him.

The envelope was thick and heavy and was clearly made of real, well-made parchment. Sighing ever so slightly, Harry quickly broke the wax seal on the back and pulled out the letter contained within.

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY_

_Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore_

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

After reading the first few lines, Harry felt like he wanted to poke Albus Dumbledork in the eyes. How the hell could one man be pretencious enough to put EVERY single one of his titles at the start of the letter? Did he know nothing of modesty? Yeah, Harry knew that some muggles were little better…..and those were the ones in shitty offices surrounded by books or in some dirty little laboratory somewhere in Oxford or Princeton.

Needless to say they were sad little fuckers.

Shaking his head, Harry continued to read.

_Dear Mr Potter,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on 1 September (or when you happen to register). We await your owl by no Later then 31st of July._

_Yours Sincerely_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Deputy Headmistress_

Harry was just about to reach for said list, but before he could bring himself to, he heard the distinctive "_creak_" of one of the old floorboards in the corridor opposite his room.

Smirking to himself, Harry continued to fiddle around with the envelope, as if struggling to get the equipment list out of the damned thing. After a couple of seconds, and faster than any human could probably see, Harry had grabbed an ink-well on his desk and thrown it at his 'would-be-assailant', who in this case happened to be Remus.

Said werewolf let out a howl of pain as the ink splashed into his eyes and coated his entire upper body. However, the poor werewolf's pain was not over, as Harry sent a lightning fast punch to the older man's "nether regions".

Needless to say, the scene the scream of pain that rocked the rest of the neighbourhood when Harry's fist connected was almost enough to make him feel sorry for the poor wolf.

Key word being almost.

"Oh sorry Remus, I didn't realise it was you!" Harry stated with mock shock and horror that was so sarcastic not even someone as socially isolated as Remus would miss it.

"Uwwwwhaaaaaaa."

"Honestly, you know how violently I can react when people _sneak up _on me. You do that to other young kids and you'll get done for kiddy fiddling, you perverted twat." Harry admonished the older man with slight humour in his voice as he picked up the list from his desk as he made his way downstairs, stopping only once when he reached the doorway to speak again.

* * *

"We can go shopping once you stop singing sonata. You'll find me at the table once you've pieced together enough self-respect to consider moving again."

"Mika, get me a glass of orange juice and a bowl of cereal please." Harry asked tiredly as he sat down into his usual chair in the dining room.

Said House-elf let out a snappish "Yes master Harry sirs!" before popping out of existence. Harry decided to make use of the time he had between Mika bringing him breakfast and Remus piecing what was left of his bollocks together. So he pulled out the list of equipment and began to read.

_HOWGARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY_

_Uniform_

_First year students will require:_

_Three sets of plain work robes (black)_

_One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear_

_One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)_

_One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)_

_Please not that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags_

_Set Books_

_All students should have a copy of each of the following:_

_The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk_

_A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot_

_Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling_

_A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch_

_One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore_

_Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger_

_Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander_

_The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble_

_Other Equipment_

_1 wand_

_1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)_

_1 set glass or crystal phials_

_1 telescope_

_1 set brass scales_

_Students may also bring an owl, cat or toad_

_PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS_

"Well that's fucking retarded." Harry grumbled to himself as he re-read the last notice. He was giving up football to go to this god-damned school and he wouldn't even be able to play fucking Quidditch?

Well, that was going to have to change if the teachers wanted the school to be left standing at the end of the year.

"Found out they don't let firsties have their own brooms, eh 'St. Potter'?" Remus asked in a voice that was still several pitches higher than normal. Normally that would have had Harry chuckling ever so slightly, but this was no time for laughter.

"King Potter to you actually you perverted old man. And as for the schools rule? Meh…..I'll deal with that soon enough." Remus involuntarily gulped ever so slightly when Harry began chuckling ever so evilly to himself, and had only one thought on his mind as he took the furthest possible seat from Harry.

'God have mercy on the fools who try to stop him.'

Eventually, Harry ceased with his evil planning long enough for Remus to begin outlining their plans for the day. They were obviously going to Gringotts first, and then after that they decided to deal with robes, potions equipment and then the wand. They would then break off and grab some lunch before picking up the books on the list and perhaps pick up a pet for Harry.

"Sounds like a plan." Harry said as he leaned back into his chair. Remus nodded ever so slightly before chuckling.

"What's so funny old man?" Harry asked with a small smirk as Remus' eyebrow gained a somewhat noticeable twitch upon being called 'old'.

"I'm not old Harry. And as for why I am laughing…well let's just say this old wolf's got a funny feeling."

"That?" Harry asked more forcefully. Remus smirked ever so slightly before replying.

"That Hogwarts isn't going to know what's hit it this year."

* * *

**Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

**And that's a wrap ladies and gentlemen. **

**So here we have it. My first chapter for my own attempt at a story like KIP or CoB. This chapter did follow the basic outline of KIP but with several major differences. And aside from several other points, the ideas and concepts that go into this story will be entirely my own. **

**I will use several ideas that I inputted into CoB in different ways. And as they were MY ideas, I should be able to work them in quite nicely to the rest of the story if I do say so myself. **

**But I digress, we are getting ahead of ourselves. **

**I currently do not have a beta for this story, and I am currently looking for one as my other beta is currently unavailable, hence any mistakes etc. within the story. So drop this little ol' writer a PM if you're interested in signing up and working on this fic with me. **

**And before you go, do please leave a review. I would love to hear what you guys have to say about the story. What did I do well and what not so. What can be changed and what can stay the same. **

**So please, **

**Review, Fave and Follow, and, **

**Of course, **

**Keep it real like a Ninja, **

**CBF. **

**P.S: For those of you who are reading my story "The Last Spartan", I will be updating that tomorrow at roughly the same time! And trust me…..this chapter is a doozy. **

**Next Chapter: When I was told to make friends….**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: And here we are once again people. An update for The Fractured Genius. **

**To be honest with you all I was surprised at the positive reception this got for the first chapter, and I would like to apologise for the lateness of this one. But unfortunately I got kind of caught up In my other story…. And then the football world cup came around and I **_**may **_**have watched **_**every **_**match…..so yeah writing time was non-existent. **

**Oh well. **

**I have finally gotten around to this though, and I have to say I actually really enjoyed writing this chapter. Most of the time when I write, I fret and panick about it all, but to be honest with you all I just hit my stride with this chapter and everything just…..worked. So I hope that means this is a good chapter and not a sign that I've written a load of garbage. **

**But anyways, I've written enough crap for now! **

**It's time to meet the gang! **

**(Also Note: This chapter has yet to be Beta-d by anyone other than me (Quickly I add), but I WILL hand it over for Beta-ing ASAP. Until such a time, remember that info when you spot a mistake!) **

* * *

_(Last time on "The Fractured Genius".)_

_Eventually, Harry ceased with his evil planning long enough for Remus to begin outlining their plans for the day. They were obviously going to Gringotts first, and then after that they decided to deal with robes, potions equipment and then the wand. They would then break off and grab some lunch before picking up the books on the list and perhaps pick up a pet for Harry. _

"_Sounds like a plan." Harry said as he leaned back into his chair. Remus nodded ever so slightly before chuckling. _

"_What's so funny old man?" Harry asked with a small smirk as Remus' eyebrow gained a somewhat noticeable twitch upon being called 'old'. _

"_I'm not old Harry. And as for why I am laughing…well let's just say this old wolf's got a funny feeling."_

"_That?" Harry asked more forcefully. Remus smirked ever so slightly before replying. _

"_That Hogwarts isn't going to know what's hit it this year."_

* * *

_**Chapter 2; When I was told to make friends...this wasn't what I had In mind. **_

* * *

Harry let out an irritated sigh at the literal sea of people in-front of him and Lupin.

Hundreds of Witches and Wizards were leading their youngest children around by their arms and groups of teenagers stood in rather inconvenient locations, making the navigation of the crowds pretty difficult. Lupin smiled ever so slightly at Harry's annoyed looking face and decided to speak up.

"Wondering why so many people wait till today to do their shopping?" Lupin asked casually, earning a nod from Harry.

"You would think that these morons would learn of the importance of prior planning and not leaving everything till the last minute.

Most Witches and Wizards strike me as the type of people who would stick their hand into a fire and burn it….only to repeat the action several days or weeks later because the flame may not be as hot."

"So you're saying their stupid?"

"Painfully so. I feel as if my IQ is dropping just being within a hundred metres of some of the people here."

Remus chuckled ever so slightly at the boys' clear distaste for the gargantuan crowd in-front of him. The boy was perfectly tolerant with most people and never commented on personal habits etc. apart from when he thought it would be funny to do so, even if it resulted in said persons feelings or hopes and dreams being crushed.

But if there were just two things on the face of the earth that Harry James Potter could not stand, they were ignorance and stupidity.

So it was safe for Lupin to say he wouldn't be getting on with quite a few Wizards over the course of his lifetime.

"Well look at the bright side, we can move on to finally getting your wand."

At the mention of a wand, Harry's entire demeanour changed from annoyed to happy within several seconds. Well, his demeanour changed in Remus' eyes at least.

That was not to say that the young man was dancing on the spot or smiling brightly at Remus' proclamation. No, the only change that was truly noticeable was in his eyes. They seemed to regain some of the shine that they once held and they seemed to gain the smallest amount of happiness and excitement in them. And that was exactly why only Remus had noticed the change in the young man. He was perhaps the only person left on the planet who could read the gaze of the young man in-front of him.

"Hang on, I thought we were dealing with the wand later." Harry growled slightly with narrowed eyes. Remus chuckled and simply smiled.

"I thought we may as well get it done. So shall we get a move on."

Harry fixed him with a glare for several seconds, before nodded his head ever so slightly and quickly began to navigate his way through the massive throng of people in-front of him, using his thinner and shorter frame to duck in-and-out of the literal sea of people in-front of him.

Remus chuckled ever so softly to himself.

Genius he may be, but not even Harry James Potter was immune to the lull and chance of finally acquiring his wand. Apathetic bastard at times and broken souled, but he was still a child at heart…so he was understandably extremely excited at the prospect of acquiring an extremely powerful weapon such as a wand.

Sighing to himself, Remus pulled his body in slightly tighter and began to….. and with a great amount of difficulty than his young charge, began to pick his way through the massive cluster of people in-front of him.

* * *

(Five minutes later.)

After being stamped, kicked and leant on, it was not that much of a surprise for Harry to see a very dishevelled and pissed-off looking Remus that stumbled out of the crowd of people that occupied Diagon alley at this time of the year. His suit jacket that was once closed up was now slightly open and his hair was all-over the place, whilst his eyes held a slightly crazed glint to them.

"I swear to Merlin, if one more woman in heels or boots steps on my foot I'll kill them, Ministry laws be damned!" Remus growled to himself as he quickly set about re-arranging his apparel and hair, much to the amusement of Harry.

"What's the matter Remus? I would have thought you'd have been ecstatic to have some female interaction, what considering your inability to get laid and all." The young boy commented dryly, earning a small glare from Remus. Harry chuckled at the man's expression.

Love Remus like a father he may, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to get some cheap-shots in when he could.

"Bite me!" Remus snarled back, earning a blank-faced look as Harry replied in a deadpan voice.

"Didn't someone else already do that for me? I mean, how else would you have gotten your 'little furry problem'?"

Remus shot a small glare at Harry as he attempted to come up with a comeback to the young Potter's words. When no rebuttal was forthcoming, the older man gave a childish huff and stomp of the foot before marching into the dusty shop they now stood outside of, earning a soft chuckle from Harry for several seconds, before the young Potter actually turned his attention to the building in question.

The display window was practically empty, except for a single wooden case in the centre of the window. Within the case sat a single wand upon a plush velvet cushion. The wand itself was nothing overly remarkable upon first glance, but the vine like pattern that spread down the spine of the wand truly was beautiful.

And above it all, in faded golden writing, sat the name of the only shop that Harry had been looking forward to going into than 'Flourish and blots'.

'_Ollivander's, makers of find wands since 382 BC.' _

Using the Occlumency lessons that Remus had given him, Harry managed to ruthlessly crush the childlike excitement that was building up within him. After all, such an emotion was hardly going to be useful in the acquisition of his wand.

Taking a deep breath, Harry steeled his nerves and gently pushed open the door that lead into the shop he had been so longing to enter.

Upon entering the building, Harry expected to be blown away by the sight of thousands and thousands of cases to be lining stands and cases. He expected the whole sight to leave him only able to utter _'woah!' _in a hushed yet excited tone.

Instead…..

"This place is filthy!"

And indeed it was. No ornate cases displaying beautiful wands that took hours to create. Heck there wasn't a single bloody wand in sight! Instead what harry was greeted to was a room that wouldn't have looked out of place in the late eighteen hundreds. A single table stood in the centre of the room, with a glass vase that was holding some long dead plant.

In the back right corner of the room were two chairs, each with a thick layer of dust upon them. The once (presumably) carpet floor was merely lost underneath the sheer volume of dust that now lay upon it. A layer of dust that threatened to choke an individual in a cloud of Merlin knows what if they moved too fast. At the opposite end of the room stood a desk one would expect to find in a hotel, with a small (and surprisingly dust free) bell sat upon it.

Harry continued to stare at the room with a measure of disbelief. THIS was supposed to be the highlight of his day! THIS was where he was supposed to get his wand from? Harry looked around the room with a level of disdain whilst Remus' shoulders shook slightly in silent laughter from Harry's….. ahh, 'distaste' of the room.

Harry caught the werewolf's movement and turned to give the man a piece of his mind. But before he could speak, another voice broke the silence.

"Filthy it may be, Mister Potter, but I guarantee you that you won't find a better wand maker's in all of Britain."

Harry barely managed to contain the yelp that threatened to escape his lips. However, he was unable to control the near whip-lash inducing turning of the neck that his reflexes subjected him to.

Once his vision steadied, the young heir to the ancient and most noble house of Potter was met with the owner of the shop.

Ollivander was beyond the definition of 'old'. Hell, Harry would go as far to say that no even the definition of 'ancient' would suffice in regards to how old the man looked. His skin was unbelievably pale in colour, and more wrinkled than any… 'polite' description Harry could offer. His hair was a somewhat dark white in colour, and was somewhat wild and reached his shoulders. All of this was okay in reality, by itself. But given his completely pale and yet still seeing eyes…..

Well let's just say that the old coot brought a whole new meaning to 'Fucking terrifying.'

Shaking his head slightly, Harry quickly rallied his mind and rebutted the old man's comment as swiftly as he possibly could, in the hopes of persevering his pride.

"I'm surprised you have any wands, Mr Olivander. Given how filthy this place is, I'd be shocked if a family of Termites haven't taken advantage of your lacksidasical attitude to cleaning." Harry bit back dryly, earning a small chuckle from the ancient wand maker.

"Be that as it may, I do not believe you are here merely to complain about the state of my establishment. Are you?" Olivander asked merrily.

"No, we're here to get Harry his first wand." Remus stated with a hint of amusement in his voice. Olivander looked over to Remus and smiled ever so gently.

"I'd imagine so…..I remember when his parents first came in for their wands. Yes, yes, mahogany and 11 inches, pliable, excellent for transfiguration, your father's wand was. . . and Lily Evans, your mother, 10 ¼ inches, willow, swishy, good for charms work. Both fine wands that ended up in the hands of even finer Wizards," The old man sighed ever so slightly before fixing a smile to his well weathered and wrinkled face and gestured for Harry to move to roughly the centre of the room.

"Yet there is no point in dallying in the past when there is so much to do in the present! Oh yes, so, so much for us to be doing."

Ollivander quickly pulled out his own wand and summoned a tape-measure to his side.

"Now Mr Potter, which is your wand hand?" He asked as he flicked a button on the tape-measure that caused it to jolt to life and quickly position itself on Harry's right flank.

"It doesn't matter . I'm ambidextrous." He replied curtly. Ollivander nodded curtly before flicking his wand at the tape measure. Said item then began racing around Harry's body, taking measurements of anything and everything that it could.

From arm length to nasal passage width, the object continued its duty until Ollivander summoned it back. With a small smile Ollivander informed Harry he had what he needed and that he would be back soon.

Harry nodded and relaxed his stance as the old wand-maker scurried off into the back of his shop.

About two or three minutes later, Ollivander came rushing back in with several wand cases in hand. He placed them on the table before opening the one on the top of the pile and pulling out a fairly non-descript wand.

"Here, try this Mister Potter. 12 inches, Ash wood, surprisingly springy with a Griffon-heartstring. No particular area of brilliance, but surprisingly powerful, making for a well rounded wand."

Harry took a hold of the wand and tried to feel for the typical "warm and fuzzy feeling" that so many Wizards claim to feel when acquiring their wand. He felt his forehead furrow and his eyebrows scrunch-up ever so slightly when no such feeling occurred.

"Give it a swish Mr Potter, sometimes 'the feeling' will only make itself known when the Wizard gives his wand a good flick." Ollivander supplied helpfully, earning a raised eyebrow from Harry that asked 'how did you know what the fuck I was thinking just then?'.

Chuckling, Ollivander replied with no lack of mirth in his voice, "Mr Potter I have been doing this job since before you were merely a twinkle in your great-grandfather's eyes. Did you honestly think I wouldn't expect a Wizarding-raised child to not know about the 'warm and fuzzy feeling' parents tell their children about?"

Harry stared at the ancient man for several seconds before shaking his head and smirking ever so slightly. He should have realised that the old mam has probably dealt with tens of thousands of others like himself over the years.

Giving a small shrug of his shoulders, Harry gave a quick flick of the wrist.

And immediately regretted listening to the old man.

A loud bang and a bright white flash obscured all of those watching the scene's eyes as the wand that Harry was holding exploded in his hand like a muggle fire-cracker. Fortunately it was only the tip of the wand that shattered, and even more fortunately, the magical energy in the tip of the wand was dense enough to incinerate any potential splinters of wood.

After they had felt the ringing in their ears subside, Harry and Remus both turned their gaze to Ollivander who sighed ever so slightly at the sight in-front of him. Several seconds later, the old man fixed his gaze on Harry and spoke.

"Mr Potter."

"Yes?"

"Get comfortable…..as I feel we will be here for quite some time."

* * *

(About two hours later.)

"Never in all my years has one customer given me such trouble!" Ollivander exclaimed as he threw yet another wand box into the corner of his shop, where a small mountain of broken wands and discarded wand cases now lay.

Remus had long since taken to a book he had bought from Flourish and Blotts about an hour and a half ago. He sat in one of the chairs in the right corner of the room and casually turned another page before speaking out. "Harry's like that. Nothing's ever easy with him in the slightest." The old wolf grumbled in the corner as his eyes continued to trail down the page of the fictitious novel he had bought.

Harry bristled in indignation and went to reply to the verbal barb with one of his own, but before he could utter as much as a word, he felt Ollivanders' wrinkled old hand on his right shoulder.

"Patience my boy. I will need you to have a clear head for what I am about to attempt." The ancient wand-maker of Diagon Alley stated calmly.

Turning to face the old man, Harry shot him a curious look, asking for an explanation.

Ollivander took a breath before he began to speak.

"Mr Potter. I have tried virtually every combination I have within the confines of my shop in terms of materials. The only possible other way of dealing with this is for me to create you a fully customised wand." The old man could barely keep the glee out of his voice as he spoke.

Harry raised an eyebrow at the old man's obvious excitement.

"Don't get to do this very often then?" He asked in his dry voice, earning a nod of the head from Ollivander and verbal agreement from Remus.

"I've never heard of someone having a custom wand made for them Harry. But like I said Mr Ollivander, not as unsurprising as you'd think. Boy's a magnet for the dangerous, difficult, brilliant and just outright weird."

Harry wheeled around again and was just about ready to attack the werewolf sat in the corner, but was stopped by Ollivander grabbing ahold of his arm and pulling him along.

"Come my boy! Ignore Mr Lupin and allow me to find you a wand. It _is _why you are here after all."

Harry contemplated the old mans' words for several seconds before letting out a small huff of indignation and letting the old man continue to drag him towards the back of the shop.

Eventually they reached what appeared to be a storage room of some kind. The room was filled with countless chunks of wood and glasses filled with gods knows what. It all seemed to be one gigantic mess….but it also just seemed _right _for the room…..as if all of this chaos was exactly what it needed.

Ollivander coughed slightly, bringing Harry's attention back to him. Once he was satisfied that he had the young Potter's attention, the ancient wand-maker began to speak.

"Okay, I need you to listen to my instructions very carefully Mr Potter. First off, I need you to find the material, or materials that will make up the body of your wand. To do so, all you need to do is to run your hand across the samples in the room. You'll know the right one or ones when you touch them."

Harry nodded his head carefully before stepping over to a table littered with countless block of different woods.

"Here goes nothing." He muttered to himself before running his hand across the first sample that he could find.

From there on out, Harry barely managed to contain his boredom as his body mechanically began dealing with the menial task assigned to it. The reactions he got from the woods were….interesting to say the least. Some blocks of wood gave of no feeling at all, whilst others tried to freeze his hand upon contact.

The best way that Harry could probably describe the reaction was like a new-born child and their parents. The child (in this case the wood) would cry and bawl their eyes out (I.E try and free your hand off) in the hands of someone who was not their "parent" (Which, was unfortunately Harry in this instance.). So it was only logical for him to assume that the wood would feel "at home" in his grasp if it was meant for him.

And judging by how it had gone so far, Harry was going to be a while.

* * *

Eventually, after Merlin knew how long, Harry finally ran across the last sample on the table.

Whatever it was, Harry could instantly tell that it was NOT wood. The sample was a fairly large block that Harry would have had to use two hands to carry safely from the table. It was bleached white and had a core running through it made of a different material, that seemed slightly hollow upon closer inspection.

Taking a calming breath, Harry tentatively placed his hand upon the material. At first he felt nothing, and was ready to let out a cry of frustration. But before he could, he finally felt what he was looking for.

Initially, 'the feeling' felt like little more than the heat of a tiny match blowing in the freezing winds of winter. But the longer Harry's hand stayed in contact with the wood, the greater the feeling. Growing from a solitary match-like feeling until a pleasant warmth spread through his entire body.

It was almost like being enveloped by someone you love in a tight hug. There were no real words to describe it. But if Harry had to actually try…..then 'safe, warm and accepted' sprung to the forefront of his mind.

Smirking to himself, Harry took a grip of the material in both of his hands and gently lifted it off of the table. He walked over to Ollivander, and he couldn't help the grin that broke out across his face at the old man's expression of utter shock.

"Cat got your tongue, Mr Ollivander?"

The ancient wander-maker of Diagon Alley continued to stare, before his mind finally seemed to register what was going on in-front of him.

"The material your Wand's body will be made of is, well rare to say the least Mr Potter."

"How so?"

The old wand maker took a deep breath before he continued speaking.

"That is Dragon bone, Mr Potter."

Harry looked at the old Wand maker with a curious look upon his face before frowning slightly. Last time he checked, Wands were made of wood, not bone. After all, a wand had to be made of a (technically former) living substance. The reason for this was to allow the magical energy from a person's magical "core" (The source of all their magic) to flow through a focusing medium such as a wand, so that spells may be cast. And given that things such as Bone and metal were inanimate objects, surely it meant that they couldn't be used as the body of a wand.

Cocking an eyebrow, Harry decided to go straight to the horse's mouth for answers.

"Forgive me if I am wrong, Mr Ollivander, but doesn't a wand _have _to be made out of wood as it is the only thing on earth that is both living and sturdy. Therefore allowing it to not only conduct magic, but also to handle the pressure that said magic produces?"

Having come out of his shock, Ollivander could only smile pleasantly at the words of the young Potter heir. Nodding his head, the old man watched as the young Potter looked down at the Bone in his hand before looking back to Ollivander himself.

"So why the hell are you saying I can use Dragon bone?"

Smiling again, Ollivander took a deep breath before speaking.

"No other wand maker can make it happen, because _no _other wand maker has delved into both wand-lore and biology."

"I don't follow. What has biology got to do with this?" Harry asked irritably.

"Everything Mr Potter. You see, I realised long ago that wood, whilst our _only _option to make wands with, it was far from practical.

Wands made of wood are easily snapped or broken, from either an individual actively snapping another's wand, to it simply exploding due to an over-charging of magic that the wand has yet to be conditioned to."

Harry's face became blank as all traces of irritation disappeared. But his eyes belied the feverous curiosity that was boiling beneath the calm and indifferent exterior.

"What do you mean conditioned to?"

"Simply put, if I were your age, and I had the magical reserves required to cast a spell such as _Bombarda, _chances are that unless the wood used to make my wand is incredibly strong, it will simply exploded as the wood is not used to such power running through it.

As an analogy, think of the Wand…"

"As a muscle. To begin with, said muscle would only be able to lift up to a certain weight without giving out and failing you completely. But, if you were to weight-train, then the power and conditioning of the muscle will gradually improve, eventually allowing you to lift stronger and stronger weights." Harry supplied helpfully, his eyes now fully alive with curiosity. Ollivander chuckled ever so slightly at the look in the boys eyes. After several seconds the old man nodded his head in assent of the young Potter's words.

"Yes, exactly Mr Potter! So you can understand that I naturally, as a Wand-maker, wished to overcome the design-flaw in the object of my craft.

So I turned to looking for different possible materials to use.

Metal turned up as a big no-no. The material is a natural conductor of heat, and as such, was rendered red-hot if more than fix or six spells were cast through it. Cooling charms did little to help, and for the wand to work, a rather large amount of blood from the individual who wished to use the wand had to be mixed with the metal.

"How much blood?" Harry asked.

"Too much." The old man stated sadly. However, before Harry could interrogate him any more, the ancient wand-maker of Diagon Alley was speaking once again.

"Any ways, my search continued. I tried and I tried to make my wands better than everyone else….but to no avail.

Until I finally tired the bones of magical creatures.

Naturally these had been exposed to huge amounts of magic compared to the trees we use from magical plantations. Magical fertilisers may bring large amounts of magic to the tree, but nothing compares to the centuries a magical creatures' bones spend in contact with their very blood and muscle. This would therefore render them much more able to resist magical build-up and the casting of high level spells. Or even to snapping from an enemy during a fight, due to Bones' natural strength.

But I had the same issue as I did with metal. _Bone _in of itself is not a living material, and as such would never be able to conduct magic like wood."

Here Ollivander paused as he gave a dramatic sigh and turned his gaze upwards ever so slowly.

"I was ready to give up, Mr Potter, and admit that this had been a waste of time….until I realised that perhaps the answers to my problem lay not from an external source…..but from within the Bone itself."

Harry looked at the old man as if he were crazy for several seconds, before his mind back-tracked and re-played what Ollivander had said to him. Said old man watched on in amusement as the young heir to the house of Potter's mind began whizzing at a million miles an hour.

If what Lupin had said about the boy was true, then he would figure it out.

And he didn't disappoint.

"You used the Bone's own marrow as the conductor. Didn't you?"

The old man's smile threatened to split his face as it grew. He gestured with his hand for Harry to go on. He wanted to make sure that it wasn't a lucky guess.

Harry shrugged his shoulders before speaking.

"If I were to guess, you realised that Bone marrow itself is made up of stem cells that can turn into both T and B lymphocyte cells for use in a living organism's immune system. But, the important thing was not that. It was simply the fact that they were alive." Harry paused briefly as he began to pace back and forth across the store room, Dragon bone in hand.

"So you had the whole living issue covered. But then I would imagine that you would need a way to make it so that you had not only the strength and power of the Dragon bone, but also the living qualities of the stem cells themselves.

So I would hazard a guess that you use some sort of spell to mix the two materials together, there-in creating a wand that was both inorganic, but at the same time alive." He came to a stop in-front of a madly smiling Ollivander who looked like both his Christmas had come early. Harry attempted to keep the passive look on his face, but he could not manage it and soon found himself grinning a little.

"I'm right, aren't I?"

"Yes, your actually One hundred percent correct, Mr Potter. I see that Mr Lupin was not lying when he told me you have the potential to become known as the smartest Wizard of this era." Ollivander replied with a small chuckle. Harry's grin grew a tiny bit and his eyes filled with a sense of pride at the statement.

Eventually though, after several seconds of a comfortable silence, Ollivander spoke up.

"Now, whilst I have greatly enjoyed our little discussion on the wonders of wand-making, I suggest that we find you a focus and probably a catalyst, Mr Potter."

Harry looked at the ancient man for several seconds before re-schooling his features and nodding his head in conformation.

Ollivander smirked ever so slightly as the young Potter passed the Dragon Bone to him and asked for instructions. The wand-maker of Diagon Alley allowed one thought to cross his mind as the boy set about the task of finding the foci of his wand….

'_You are destined for great things, Harry Potter….'_

'_I just hope they are not like Riddle's achievements.'_

* * *

Harry strode across the now almost desolate Diagon alley with Remus Lupin in tow.

It had been several hours since Harry had left Ollivander's in persuit of some lunch at the Leaky Cauldron with Remus. After eating in the (rather unfortunately) packed tavern, Harry acquired both his robes and trunk whilst Remus had gone to deal with his Potions' supplies.

The robe fitting had been a tiresome but necessary affair. He had ordered everything to be made of acromalanture silk and that his boots be made of Dragon hide.

Expensive?

Yes.

Worth it?

Certainly!

Now, although the Potters were not the richest family in Magical Britain, thanks to their efforts in effectively supporting the "Light" during the war with Voldamort, the Potter vault in Gringotts still held enough funds to set them apart from the masses.

Families like the Malfoys may be richer _now_, but given the chance, Harry Potter was going to _amend _that issue eventually.

But any-ways, back to the point at hand, after Madam Malkin informed him to return the following day for his order, Harry had quickly acquired a luxurious trunk with some…. Ahhhhh, _interesting _add-ons to say the least. Initially the store clerk hadn't been willing to sell to him. But after some "persuasion" from a recently returned Lupin, the man was only too happy to make the sale.

Trunk shrunk and stuffed in his pocket, Harry and Remus had made their way to Harry's second most anticipated stop of the day.

Flourish and Blotts.

Now whilst most kids would be horrified of the notion of stepping anywhere _near _a bookshop; to Harry Potter, Flourish and Blotts was like a candy store. So to say that he was happy wouldn't even begin to quantify the sheer joy in the young Potter's eyes as he raced off to find a couple of texts that he had his heart set that were not a part of the first year Syllabus.

'_Numerology and Grammatica by L. Wakefield' _

'_Ancient Runes Made Easy by Laurenzoo ' _

Harry had always had an interest in foreign languages and love for mathematics (Hence his tendency to have mathematical problems books with him most of the time). So naturally he found the possibility of studying the Magical worlds equivalent of these two subjects highly enticing. He was toying with the idea of talking with the respective professors of the subjects once he got to Hogwarts, however he felt it may be best if he actually got some of the damned syllabus information within the texts and had a few weeks' worth of Hogwarts education under his belt before he spoke to them.

He had almost punched Lupin when he tried to pull him out of the shop, but one quick reminder that they still had to pick up his wand, and Harry was out of the shop like a bat out of hell.

Taking a calming breath, Harry allowed his head to clear of the thoughts of that afternoon before pushing open the door to Ollivander's once more.

Upon entering, Harry was greeted with the sight of the enigmatic shop-keeper polishing an extremely ornate wooden box. Once Harry and Remus were both in the shop, Ollivander looked up from his task and allowed a small smile to cross his lips.

"Ahhhh Mister Potter, Mr Lupin, what excellent timing the two of you have! I've just finished with your order!" He exclaimed giddily as he wandered over from behind the rooms desk and over to them instead.

He turned the box around so that an ornately designed golden latch was facing Harry. Upon it sat crest of the ancient and most noble house of Potter; a Griffon upon its hind legs, clamping onto the main body of a mighty dragon. The two famous magical creatures were interlocked in an eternal battle for dominance that looked like it could sway at any time, whilst underneath the titanic battle sat the family motto: _Audaces fortuna iuvat_

"_Fortune Favours the Bold." _

Harry tentatively took a hold of the latch and gently forced it upwards, eliciting a small '_click' _from the latch.

Then with bated breath, Harry pushed the lid of the box upwards….

And then allowed his breath to be taken away.

Gone was the single chunk of bleached Dragon bone. In its stead sat what could only be called a true masterpiece. Measuring in at thirteen inches long, upon a plush purple velvet cushion, a bleached white wand rested. The main body of the wand was sleek and aerodynamic, tapering to a point so fine that it seemed almost impossible to achieve. Down the length of the wand ran five golden vine-like lines. In the centre of each vine sat a small rune.

_Earth _

_Wind _

_Fire _

_Water_

_Lightning _

Ollivander quickly elaborated as to which was which Rune, getting an small nod out of the dazed Potter.

Each of these vines then began to slowly coil together as they reached the base of the wand, before finally creating a single line that ran straight to the base of the wand, where another rune sat proudly on display.

_Destruction. _

All in all the wand was truly a masterpiece that Harry could spend entire weeks trying to describe with words, and he could not even hope of coming anywhere near describing the damned thing….

It was…

"Beautiful." Remus whispered from his spot next to Harry. The young Potter heir nodded his head dumbly before turning his gaze to Ollivander as he began to speak.

"This is without a doubt my greatest creation. Thirteen inches long, made from the bone and marrow of an ancient yet powerful Dragon, no give whatsoever with a Griffon heartstring core that is catalysed with Sprigan blood. This wand will control the elements like no other thanks to the Sprigan blood and your own natural inclination towards said magics….but it will also specialise extremely well in destruction based combat magic, due to the nature of Dragons. And the Griffon heart-string will amplify the power you push through the wand by a great magnitude."

That last part caught Harry's attention but before he could voice any questions, Ollivander continued his little speech.

"It is without a doubt the most powerful wand I have ever created, and probably ever _will _create. This wand is designed for an exceptionally powerful wizard who is destined for great things in the fires of combat, Mr Potter."

Harry stood there in a little awe of his wand.

Taking a deep breath, Harry made a gesture with his head towards the box. Ollivander chuckled ever so slightly, but shook his head in the affirmative.

Tentatively, Harry reached forwards and took a firm grip of the wand handle.

Gently he lifted his new wand out of the box.

The moment his arm was held out in-front of him, Harry James Potter's entire body visibly shuddered as the "warm and fuzzy" feeling from before flooded his body. Only this time it was a thousand times stronger. It was like a missing piece of his life had finally been returned to him…..he felt…..

Complete? Whole? Harry didn't really know how it felt…..but all he knew was…..

'This is definitely mine!'

* * *

Harry stood on Platform Nine and three Quarters exactly one month later, with Remus Lupin at his side, and a somewhat sad smile on his face.

It had been an interesting month for Harry to say the least. The moment he had gotten home a month ago, Harry had immediately headed to one of the unused rooms in the house and had Remus practically drown it in what charms and few wards he knew that would limit damage.

Then they had set to work.

It had become apparent pretty quickly that Harry was going to require much greater control over his magic then most students. How so, you may ask?

Well let's just say that when you ty and cast _Wingardium Leviosa _for the first time and the feather you are attempting to lift goes smashing into the ceiling and leaves a hole in it…..

Well your either putting too much power into it due to your reserves…..

OR your wand is the most powerful of its generation, and possibly all of those to come.

In Harry's case it was both.

So that was what most practical lessons for the first week or so were spent on. Magical control and focus. Eventually, once he had reached an acceptable level of control, Harry began working on as much of the syllabus as he possibly could. He stuck to reading the Potions text book, whilst practically devouring every single thing he could in the Arithmancy and Runes textbooks.

All of that had occupied his time until he finally found himself stood in-front of the red and gold Steam engine train that was the 'Hogwarts Express.'

"Do you think the headmaster was an avid Gryffindor much?" Harry asked dryly as the pair began to make their way towards the train. Remus scoffed slightly before speaking up in a fake snobby tone.

"I should think so! He was a Gryffindor himself, and our house common room beats all the others! So why wouldn't he openly support Gryffindor?" He asked with his head held slightly in the air, earning a soft chuckle from Harry.

"Recruitment much?"

Remus chuckled before noticing Harry had gained a slightly serious look on his face.

"Listen Remus. You know I'm shit when it comes to all the mushy feelings and what not ever since _that _night. But…..I….well I guess I just wanted to say thanks for being there for me for so long. I can't ever truly express my gratitude with words….." At this point, Harry pulled a slip of paper out of his jacket and handed it to Remus.

"What's this?" The werewolf asked as he removed the paper from Harry's hand and began to unfurl it. As he began to read the bit of paper, Harry could only watch on in amusement as Remus' eyes began to get wider and wider the more he read.

"That right there my dear Remus, is the deed to an old building just down Knockturn Alley. I know how difficult it can be for werewolves to find a job in the current climate, and I know you hate feeling as if your sponging off of the Potter estate, which you're not doing by the way.

So I want you to do something with that building. Create a new Flourish and Blotts or perhaps a new Leaky Cauldron for those persecuted by the ministry. I don't care. All I want is for you to put it to good use and stop feeling as if you owe me and my parents."

Remus went to speak but was cut off by Harry.

"And before you ask; I had my account manager purchase the land when I asked you to leave us alone last month."

Remus continued to stare at the paper in a near catatonic state for several seconds before crushing Harry's ribcage in a hug.

"Merlin bless you Harry! I….I don't know what to say! You've given me the chance for a proper life. A real life! I…I…"

"To start with you can let me go and stop blubbering like a five year old." Harry retorted dryly, earning a small chuckle from Remus as he backed away from the young heir to the house of Potter and smiled. Harry held his gaze with an impassive face for several seconds before smiling ever so slightly. Remus had stuck with Harry during the darkest hour of his life and he was not going to let such unwavering loyalty and devotion go un-rewarded.

"You have my account key, so I _want _you to take whatever funds you need to get the place up-and-running. And don't worry about paying it back, we can work that out later. "

Remus nodded dumbly again before Harry spoke up once more.

"Take care of yourself old man."

"You too Harry"

He nodded his head and gave the old werewolf a handshake before grabbing onto his trunk and pulling it along with him.

* * *

Harry gave a sigh of irritation as he reached the back of his cart. Every compartment was bloody full of either excitable first years or grumpy seventh years. It was rather tiresome if Harry was being completely honest.

'_I know people are excited about all of this, but there is no need to be so __**loud **__about it!' _Harry thought to himself after passing several compartments in which the first years were literally shouting and screaming about how they were going to Hogwarts.

'_Everybody knows that you loud-mouthed morons! For Merlin's sake, why else would we be on this fucking train!?" _

Eventually, Harry managed to pull himself out of his own thoughts, and it was just in time as well, as he finally managed to find what he was looking for.

An empty compartment.

Sighing in relief, Harry opened the door and immediately stashed his feather-weighted trunk onto the overhead rack. Task complete, Harry pulled a shrunken book out of his pocket before giving a flick of his left wrist.

Immediately, Harry's bleached wand shot into his waiting hand.

He had purchased a dis-illusioned (to all but the wearer) Dragon-hide duelling wrist-holster back at Ollivanders, and had practiced the motions of getting the release over the summer.

After several comedic failures, one of which almost poked Harry's eye out (Don't ask, not even HE knew how he managed _that _one.), the young heir to the house of Potter had managed to get the motion down, and from there-in had simply practiced making it faster and cleaner.

Waving his now released wand, Harry cancelled the shrinking charm on his Arithmancy text book.

Storing his wand, he began to read the book.

It wasn't until just before the train began its journey that Harry was disturbed. The young Potter was engrossed in his Arithmancy text book until he heard the tell-tale sound of the compartment door being slid open. Looking up, Harry was greeted to the site of two individuals and their respective trunks.

The first individual was a young boy who was about the same height as Harry at about Five foot tall. He had a mop of somewhat disorganised brown hair and dark brown eyes that were full of life and mischief. Harry noticed (Objectively speaking of course) that the young lad was "good-looking" and would definitely become quite the handsome young man, what with his high cheekbones and non-troll like nose.

The second individual was a young girl who was about four foot nine tall. She had long, raven black hair that fell down to the middle of her back and grey eyes that, whilst not dead like Harry's own, held significantly less emotion than her male counterpart. Her skin was tanned and indicated towards a Mediterranean heritage. She was exceptionally pretty, with high cheekbones and naturally luscious lips that were currently somewhat impassive. But Harry could tell right now that this young girl was going to be absolutely beautiful when she was older.

After a somewhat tense several seconds of staring at one another, the young man spoke up.

"Hey there! The names Archades Montague and this h, YEOW!"

Harry watched as the still unnamed girl elbowed the now named Archades in the ribs, causing the young boy to let out a very 'girly' yelp at the contact. The boy turned an angry look towards the young girl, but cowed immediately under her glare. After taking a moment to re-school her features, the girl spoke up.

"Forgive my…._friends _rudeness. My name is Anastasia Zabini, heiress to the ancient and most noble house of Zabini. My companion's name is Archades Montague of the ancient house of Montague." The girl's voice carried an ever so delicate accent that Harry immediately identified as Italian. It was mellow, but still there.

He recognised the Zabini and Montague names, of course. The Zabini's were a well-respected family who essentially controlled the imports and exports of potion ingredients from and to the United Kingdom. So naturally her mannerisms were explained away, but those of the Montague child were not.

The Montague's were an extremely traditional, blood purist family. Their current head had supported Voldamort during the war but had managed to cry "Imperious!" fast enough to save his sorry hide. The family was well known for their control over several major Tree reserves that were used to supply the wood used in wands. This obviously generated the wealth that helped keep their head out of jail and support any bills that would support their endeavours in the Wizenmangot.

So why he was greeting Harry like some playground schoolchild was beyond him. It was something worth looking into at a later date.

Shaking his head slightly, Harry decided to go for the middle ground in his reply. He wanted to show Anastasia that he knew his way around Pureblood customs, but that he also didn't want to be quite so formal with someone. After all, they were only eleven, it's not like they needed to be playing politician _just _yet.

"Pleasure to meet you both. My name is Harry Potter, heir to ancient and most noble house of Potter. But in all honesty, you can call me Harry. Family names are way too formal, don't you think?"

Secretly, Harry was kind of hoping that the girl was like him. Like he said, family names were way too formal for kids their age to be using. But then again, if she had a stick up her arse like most Purebloods then she was going to be a right pain to deal with.

Anastasia narrowed her eyes slightly as she examined the young man in-front of her for several seconds, as if trying to discern whether or not he was being serious. Eventually her eyes unfrowned and her lips quirked into a small smile.

"Thank Merlin. For a moment there I thought you were going to be another Pureblood who couldn't pull the stick out of their backside." She stated bluntly with a little humour and mirth creeping into her voice. Harry cocked an eyebrow at her statement but smirked ever so slightly for a second.

"Glad I broke the trend. I take it you two want a compartment to stay in for the ride?" Harry asked casually, gaining nods from Anastasia and Archades. He motioned with his head for the pair of them to join him and the both of them voiced their thanks once they had their trunk stowed away.

Harry returned to his book as the two other members of his compartment began chattering away to one another….well at least one did. Montague was nattering on and on about something. Sighing, Harry realised he was probably one of those kids who could natter for hours on end.

So in response, Harry simply pulled up his book and began to read again.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed, but eventually, Harry was torn from his reading of Chapter twelve of his book (Covering the basic principles of calculating the amount of power required to use a spell, if you're interested.) by the voice of Archidas.

"So what do you think, Harry?"

Harry looked up from his book and met Archades hopeful gaze. Cocking an eyebrow, Harry responded to his fellow male's question with another question.

"About what?"

Archidas furrowed his brow slightly as he began to speak again.

"Whether or not Puddlemere United are going to win the league this year, of course! I have been talking about it for the past three quarters of an hour or so."

Deciding to have some fun with the young Montague, Harry's face adopted a slightly shocked look when he spoke next.

"You were talking?"

When the young boy nodded his head in conformation, Harry let out an 'aaaahhhh', as if he had come to some sort of great realisation.

"What?" Archades asked with pure confusion in his voice. Anastasia looked on with mild interest from her window seat. Eventually, Harry decided to answer the young Montague.

"Well, it explains the annoying buzzing I've been hearing since I started reading." Harry replied dryly.

For several seconds silence filled the compartment, until Anastasia began chuckling away like mad in her corner. Archades eyes widened in horror before he jumped to his feet and loudly proclaimed,

"YOU'RE JUST LIKE HER! FOR MERLIN'S SAKE, STOP POISONING EVERYONE WE MEET INTO BULLYING ME ANNA!"

"It's so easy though!" Anastasia drawled back, earning a childish huff and stomp from Archades who proceeded to look out of the compartment door. But Harry could see the amusement in his eyes as he did so.

Turning his gaze to Anastasia, Harry watched as the girl's smile refused to leave her face as she leant forwards, her right hand extended towards Harry.

"Po….Harry, I have the feeling that this is the start of a wonderful relationship." She stated with mirth in her voice.

Harry looked at the girl in-front of him before smirking ever so slightly.

'A hyperactive Montague and a Zabini heiress…..not exactly who I would anticipate hanging out with when I started here…..but they seem alright. Might as well see where this leads.' He thought to himself before gently shaking Anastasia's hand.

"I do hope so, Anastasia…."

"I do hope so."

* * *

From there on out, Harry actually might have dared to say that he actually enjoyed the train ride with Anastasia and Archades.

It became pretty apparent to Harry early on what their natural characteristics were. Anastasia was pretty calm and collected, with a rather dry and somewhat sarcastic sense of humour that just seemed to suit her perfectly. She had proven to be intelligent, what with her extensive vocabulary and competence about the world she lived in. Anastasia clearly had two "persona's" that she used in day-to-day life.

Number one was the cold and somewhat apathetic heiress to the Zabini fortune, she seemed to use this in dealing with those she considered her "allies" or other important Purebloods, as demonstrated when several of her "friends" intruded on the carriage.

Her second persona was essentially the "real" Anastasia. Calm, cool and collected but with a wicked sense of humour and a much more enjoyable personality than most individuals, Harry could honestly say that she seemed like a nice person. And was one that he wouldn't mind getting to know at all.

Archades on the other hand was the complete opposite to what Harry had expected in terms of a Pureblood child. He was brash, loud and seemingly had no tact when it came to dealing with others.

But at the same time, he displayed a remarkable level of intelligence, especially when it came to potions. His raw intellect was not on Harry's level, but the boy was clearly one of those types who could still out-perform the vast majority of his peers without even having to try. That and he did have a wonderful sense of humour that even managed to make Harry fully smile from time to time.

Despite all of this however, Archades also seemed to be extremely loyal and protective of those he considered his friends. It was nothing he said that gave it away, but rather the tenses of his muscles that gave him away whenever someone else poked their head into the compartment. It was as if he was ready to spring to his feet and protect her with his life. An odd quirk that only added to the puzzle that Archades Montague seemed to be.

And it was a puzzle that Harry Potter was determined to solve.

* * *

As Anastasia Zabini double checked her Hogwarts robes before she allowed Harry and Archie to re-enter the cabin, she couldn't help but let her mind wander to the enigma that was Harry Potter.

From the get-go, Anastasia had learnt only one thing about Harry Potter, and that annoyed her to no end. She prided herself on being able to read most people like an open book, an ability that she had inherited from her mother. So for her to only be able to recognise one trait about Harry Potter, well let's just say it wounded her pride.

After all, anyone, even someone who had no ability in reading people what-so-ever, would recognise that Harry Potter was a terrifyingly intelligent individual. The moment Anastasia had stepped into his field of view, she felt as if she was being analysed and assessed. Whether she was a threat or not. Whether she was a Pureblood or a Muggleborn or raised.

It was an uncomfortable feeling to put it lightly.

Her thoughts about his intelligence were only compounded when she saw him almost two thirds of the way through an Arithmancy text book. That was a third year subject that took an entire year to cover just that book! And there sat Harry Potter informing her that he had only started the book in July.

Even had he not used completely serious tone he had defended his claim with after Archie called bull-shit, she could just tell that Harry Potter _was _that clever.

Yet he never flaunted it or boasted about it.

He clearly _knew _how clever he was, and he felt secure enough in his own gift to not require constant recognition of his skill. It was a trait that earned the boy Anastasia's respect. In that respect he was like an even smarter Archades, so he had rather quickly garnered some serious respect with the Zabini heiress.

But at as time went on, the Zabini heiress managed to garner some more information about the heir to the ancient and most noble house of Potter.

The first of which ; he was Archades more intelligent, polar opposite

Whereas Archades was rather loud, brash and open about most things, Harry Potter was a fairly reserved and quiet person who didn't really talk much about himself. He would participate in conversations and he would start them himself from time to time, but they never related to things such as home or family. And when he was asked questions about such things, he always deflected them and skilfully turned the topic of conversation back onto something that he seemed more comfortable talking with them about.

It was quite the impressive skill, but unfortunately for Harry, Anastasia picked up on it.

That now meant two possible things in regards to Harry's life up until now or Harry's own personality; So it either meant that;

He was a private person who just didn't feel comfortable talking about such stuff until he felt he could trust a person.

Or

He was like Archie and had a pretty traumatic past.

For now the she wasn't going to try and pry. She was going to wait and see if he opened up to them over the year, thereby proving her hypothesis.

If he didn't….

Well let's just say that Anastasia didn't fancy her chances of getting into Slytherin for nothing.

Along with this, Anastasia couldn't shake the feeling that the boy was simply a magnet for either the weird or brilliant, or sometimes both. She couldn't quite place it…..but if she had to try and describe this feeling, she'd say that Harry Potter seemed like the linchpin of events at Hogwarts for the next seven years.

Shaking her head slightly, Anastasia cleared her mind of the thoughts she had about Harry Potter for now as she felt the train slowly begin to decrease its speed. She may need a clear head sooner or later, and it wouldn't help her if she had her mind pre-occupied.

But there was just one thought that wouldn't clear her head.

Anastasia Zabini may not have known _what _this first year was going to bring, but she _knew _that, if anything…..

Harry Potter would ensure it would be anything but boring.

* * *

**Annnnnnnd Cut. **

**Whew, that is officially the longest chapter I have ever written. Roughly 9,500 words. But to be honest with you, that's what I'm hopefully going to be churning out as a standard chapter for this story. So I hope that it satisfies your needs in terms of length. **

**Now onto some of the stuff I feel that I need to explain before I begin my usual end of chapter ramble in earnest;**

* * *

**Harry's wand: **

Originally I was considering giving him the Elder wand, but then I realised just _how many _stories that seems to occur in. And in general, whenever Harry doesn't get the _'twin wand' _to Voldemort's, it's either good at absolutly everything or made of some super rare wood. So I decided to be different and give Harry a unique wand in terms of the world of Fanfiction and Cannon.

From what I gather, only wood is ever used to make wands as it is the only "living" thing capable of conducting magic. So I decided to use a little bit of Biology and (what I consider to be) straight forward logic to enable Harry to have a truly unique wand that doesn't specialise into the regular fields like in most stories.

I also decided that the whole "breaking in" the wand made more sense than giving Harry the ultimate boom-stick of the magical world. It doesn't make sense for a piece of wood that has had a certain amount of wood flowing through it for decades to suddenly be able to handle the power required for a spell like the killing curse. However, as it is "living", then it can grow and condition itself to eventually handle such power, therefore _forcing _Harry to really work for his power.

(Oh and in-case your wandering how the Stem cells didn't die ; Stasis charm)

**Harry/ Archades and Anastasia: **

I'm going to say this now; whilst these three may hang out with one another, Harry will NOT see them as true friends until later on in the story (due to an event that I will not reveal…..).

He WILL become fast friends with them, with Archades being basically his brother in all but blood. They will behave much like the dynamic duo from CoB but Archades will be less of a twit in this one, and he will not be grievously man-handled by Anastasia all the time.

She WILL do so once or twice, but not to the point that the gag becomes boring.

**Harry's persona: **

In all honesty, Harry IS an arse at times to those he doesn't care about, but he is not CRUEL to them, like in CoB or KiP.

He is somewhat blunt and sarcastic, and has sociopathic tendencies, such as the ability to completely desensitise himself to a given situation, and he feels no remorse for killing those who threaten those he cares about.

With those he cares for, whilst not a bundle of love and joy, Harry shows his caring in different (and sometimes unobvious) ways. This is mostly due to his mother's condition.

He holds himself accountable for her condition and refuses to let himself truly be happy. Although he knows his mother would want him to be happy, he won't allow himself to fully enjoy life until he finds a way to bring her out of her coma, hence his reserved nature.

* * *

**Okay, tedious stuff done, I can move onto my usual crap. **

**I hope that you have enjoyed this chapter and that I have lived up to whatever standards you guys may have. If so, tell me by reviewing! I want to know if what I am currently doing in terms of my writing style etc. is good. **

**If there's something your unhappy about , also review! I like to know what needs working on, fine-tuning or completely overhauling. So do actually tell me, don't just flame about something! If you do I'll just laugh and move onto someone who's actually trying to leave a proper review. **

**With that all done, all I have to say is that, if you want to know what's going to happen next, then fave and follow so you don't miss out on the next chapter (which WILL come out way, way, way quicker now that I am on my summer holiday.) **

**So until next time, **

**Keep it real like a Ninja, **

**CBF **

* * *

**Next Chapter: Well I guess I'm stuck here now...**


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